


Present for Priapus

by Mossgreen



Series: 2770 ab urbe condita [7]
Category: 2770 ab urbe condita - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Greek and Roman Mythology - Freeform, Inappropriate use of statuary, Large Insertion, M/M, Religion Kink, Sexual Slavery, Size Kink, Slavery, Video Cameras, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 19:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15250701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossgreen/pseuds/Mossgreen
Summary: It's Ven's birthday. His problem is that he's the one tied up as an offering for his Master's pleasure.





	Present for Priapus

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. There are no excuses for this total weirdness. If you want to see anything else with Ven and his master, I'm open to ideas (but please no scat/watersports/bloodplay/bestiality, thank you).

“Today, we have a very special video for you, to thank all of you who have subscribed over the last year. We have reached three million subscribers Empire-wide which, combined with the fact that it is my pet's birthday, deserves a special celebration. Ven today will be fucked by the god Priapus himself, although as the deity has not chosen to favour us in person, he will be represented by a very fine life-sized bronze statue cast by Rusonius Vitus. As he is a slave, it is only fitting that the birthday celebrant makes a gift of himself to the god, to me, and thence to you. I shall not detract from the spectacle with needless commentary other than my information for the slave, and his responses. Citizens, behold!”

He stepped aside to reveal that he was in the garden. As was common in the houses of the rich, it had a colonnaded walkway around it and various statues, of which by far the most prominent was one of Priapus, cast as a young man with an enormous erect cock. Normally, the statue's cock was far bigger, reaching almost to the young man's nipples, but today the statue revealed a secret of its manufacture known only to the master of the house: the cock was removable. In the place of the usual oversized monster was a cock rather bigger than the plugs the master had so far used in his slave, though smaller than was usually seen adorning any statue of Priapus. It was perhaps a little longer than the largest rod on the dildo bench, maybe even a little fatter, but where that was a plain straight stiff rod, this was a cock, as realistic in shape and form as his master's own prick, but monstrous in comparison.

The camera's autofocus settled on Ven, who was standing on a sort of platform in front of the statue, his feet perhaps twice shoulder-width apart. The ankle cuffs he was wearing were fastened to solid eyebolts in it, preventing him closing his legs and ensuring that he couldn't even go on tiptoe. The head of the statue's cold bronze cock was pressing at the oiled and prepared pucker. His hands were pulled behind the statue, his wrist cuffs fastened together with a short length of chain, which had the effect of pulling his shoulders back and forcing his chest out. His nipples were clamped, and each clamp had a weight hanging from it by a short chain. His own prick was erect, fastened into a cock ring slightly smaller than the harness he usually wore, and his balls were pulled down by a wide, weighty cuff. The dildo gag he was wearing was two-and-a-half inches, filling his mouth with the realistic sculpted head of his master's own prick.

His master was sitting opposite, his tunic pulled up and his trousers open to display his own erect cock. One hand was idly stroking himself, the other was holding the remote for the platform that Ven was standing on and fastened to, which was now slowly sinking. This had the effect of slowly forcing the statue's lubed cock inside him, stretching him open, making his knees quiver. His breathing was making the weights on his nipples sway. The platform didn't keep going down at the same speed, either. Sometimes it stopped, sometimes it rose a little, teasingly, but always it resumed the downwards motion, filling Ven relentlessly with the cold hard smooth-sculpted metal prick. He tried to rise to his toes to reduce the pressure inside, ease it somehow, but he was prevented from doing so. 

Every time he thought there couldn't be more, the platform rose a little, relieving the pressure, and his master waited until his breathing had settled before resuming the teasing, filling him further than he had known was possible, and then further yet. Finally the sculpted balls were firm against his bum. He was breathing shallowly, sweating a little. He tried to shift his hips a little to relieve the feeling of fullness, and could not.

The platform began to move again, upwards and it seemed it was all over before the direction reversed. His master was smiling as the platform moved, with the result of forcing the slave to be taken by a cold unfeeling metal statue. The weights on his nipples and balls swayed with the rotating motion – the platform was on gimbals and could tilt in any direction at any time, as well as moving up and down, effectively meaning that the prick moved inside Ven, changing its angle of penetration, or thrusting in and out.

Some bloody birthday present.

Ven was desperate to come, so needy. He had not come since before riding the dildo bench for the first time, nearly six weeks ago. His knees were shaking and all he could think about was the cock inside him and the pressure of his own cock. The platform stopped all movement, leaving him panting, as much as the dildo in his mouth would let him. His prick was leaking and he mewled needily at his master, who merely stroked himself to completion, covered himself up and came over to pet his slave's head, before blindfolding him.

“The platform is programmed to move as you have felt, and to stop as it is now, at its lowest point. While the platform is not moving, anyone may come along and touch you, anywhere, however they wish, but you cannot come. Not until I return.” He turned and walked away, his footsteps crunching on the gravel path as the platform started moving again, leaving him writhing hopelessly, impaled by Priapus' prick.

He felt so full, so stretched. The cock inside him was smooth, solid, unyielding, unmoving despite the movement of the slave's body in relation to it. The movement of the platform also caused the weights attached to the nipple clamps to sway, which made his stiff nipples ache. He couldn't see and the sensations were incredibly arousing. His own cock was hard, almost vertical against his belly. He was damp with sweat, panting around the fake cock-head in his mouth.

The platform stopped moving again, and he tried shifting but the giant prick impaling his arse prevented any real movement; the statue's sculpted balls were firm against his backside. He clenched and unclenched his chained fists. And then a fingernail flicked at a sensitised nipple and his head fell back as he moaned, trying to move away but the giant prick inside him ensured that he was held still. A hand cupped his balls, squeezing them and he struggled to close his legs, but the few stout links of chain and the solid eye-bolts prevented any movement of his legs. A finger ran down and up the length of his prick before rubbing over the head of it, spreading the moisture gathering there. 

Someone laid a hand against his stomach, marvelling that surely they could see the bulge of the giant prick inside him. He did not doubt that they could, as they pressed his skin to confirm the theory.

“I am glad you are Master's favourite, and I am not,” someone commented, also tracing the bulge of Priapus' prick in Ven's belly. Ven groaned; he would give a good deal to be anywhere else than where he was.

There seemed to be a brief discussion and then there was a little fiddling with the wide cuff around his balls and he moaned as he felt added weight. The cuff the master had used had two eyes on it, sticking out like tiny wings, and as the platform began its rocking movements again he realised that a chain had been fastened there, a longish chain with a weight on its other end, which began swinging slowly, drawing attention to balls that already felt swollen and tight, aching to come.

He lost track of time, only able to feel the various teasing devices and implements the master had left him with. His bum felt stretched, huge yet plugged tight and seemed to be growing sore and dry, yet there was no let-up. 

He blinked in the light of several lanterns set up around him when his master finally removed the blindfold. His mouth felt dry and his jaw was aching from the gag in it, his balls felt swollen, his cock was flushed dark, swollen and had been leaking for a long time. His master picked up the remote and pressed a button. Somehow the giant cock inside him seemed to be easier in its movements now. “Self-lubricating... fill it up with a liquid enough lubricant, and there is no need to worry about damaging the slave on display,” the master said, causing Ven to groan. “I shall program it to release lubricant every five minutes or so – we do want you to have fun. You look quite the most wanton thing I think I have ever seen, my pet,” he said, and came over. “Would you like to come?”

Ven nodded eagerly, only to groan again when a weighted cuff of some sort was slipped around his cock, just under the head, forcing it away from his belly. The cuff on his ball-sac and cock-ring were removed and he nearly came there and then, holding on by a supreme effort until his master said, “Come, slave!” He came, and came, sending his seed spurting across the garden in thick pearly ropes that glistened in the lantern-light.

“Impressive. I wonder if you will increase the distance by morning,” the master said, slipping both cock-ring and cuff back on, to Ven's horrified dismay. They were followed by the blindfold. Sensitised flesh protested at the continuing intrusion of the giant prick, and his knees felt like jelly but there was nothing he could do but hang there as the platform paused at its lowest point, with the statue's coconut-sized cold metal balls firm against his bum.

There was a pat on his head and then first one nipple and then the other was pinched, squeezed and twisted, setting the weights hanging from the clamps swaying. “You will remain still like this for an hour or so and then it will all begin over,” the master's voice promised reassuringly, patting the bulge in Ven's stomach that was Priapus' cock-head. “The difference, of course, will be that you will get no further release until morning. Try to sleep while you can. And of course this is being recorded for the internet to see.”

Sleep, while impaled, stretched so full he felt he was being split open? He moaned, and moaned again when he realised his master was still there as he began flicking at the various weighted chains attached to Ven's nipples and balls. Cool night air ghosted over sensitised skin as a sheen of sweat broke out.

Finally the weights were left swaying gently and the master walked away. Ven tried to sleep a little, but he could not ignore the huge, solid, unyielding metal prick inside him, or the throbbing of his own prick, erect and heavy between his legs, with swollen balls hanging heavy beneath it. His nipples were hard in the chill air, the clamps remorselessly tight. He could neither bend his knees, because of the giant cock inside him, nor relieve its pressure even a little by rising to tiptoe because of the cuffs around his ankles which were fastened to solid eye-bolts. He was panting around the cock-gag in his mouth. Any movement, however small, set the weights swaying and reminded him that his arse was full with a far bigger rod than he had had before. Even the biggest rod on the dildo bench was not so large, although what was inside him was smaller than the prick the statue usually displayed.

He must have somehow dozed off because he was again being fucked by the metal cock again and the weights were swinging with the movement. His prick was leaking, but it had been doing that for a while. He was trembling, but it wasn't from the cold; it was actually quite warm out here, though he was too keyed-up and aroused to think of that.

And somehow he could feel that it was slowly getting warmer and brighter, which had to mean that it was morning, though he was still hard and still being buggered by the enormous metal prick. His own cock felt as though it was the same size and his balls felt as though they were the size of coconuts by now. His throat was dry and his jaw ached so much from the gag that he wasn't sure he would ever be able to close his mouth again. He didn't think he'd ever be able to close his legs again either. 

And suddenly the weights were swaying again, out of synch with the movements he was subjected to and he moaned before the harness and weighted cuff were removed from his prick and his balls and he was coming and coming and coming and he could see stars.

And then the clamps were taken from his nipples which made him scream around the gag with the feeling of blood rushing back to the abused nubs, and he nearly came again. The platform was rising and the cock was sliding out, leaving him empty, far emptier than he had ever felt. His wrists were unchained and there was a fumbling at his feet and then he was lifted and being carried tenderly and a voice was murmuring in his ear, “My good boy. Such a good, pretty boy as you are, such a warm, wanton, pretty boy. So utterly debauched.”

He was being lowered to his stomach, lying flat on a smooth, flat yet soft and yielding surface, his ankles chained so that he could not close them, yet he could move them closer together than he had been able to. The gag was unbuckled from his head and gently pulled out, followed by a stream of spittle that he could not swallow because he could not close his mouth to do so. And then a hand was stroking gently at his empty bum, soothing, rubbing something in.

“Good boy, my good boy. I won't do that to you again, but you looked so good there, taking that big fat thing for me. It's over now, all done.”

The covers were pulled over him, their warm weight soft and comforting although not as comforting as the weight of his master's arm resting on his back and the stream of nonsense words that blanketed him as he drifted to sleep.


End file.
